Dangerously Safe
by rsb57
Summary: Huggy provides the room and a lot of support while Hutch works through withdrawal. Based on episode THE FIX.


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'What you risk reveals what you value.'

Jeannette Winterson

**DANGEROUSLY SAFE**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANY PART OF THE STARSKY AND HUTCH FRANCHISE. THE FOLLOWING IS FOR ENTERTAINMENT ONLY.**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** This story was previously posted under the name **The Buddy Loop.** I pulled that story shortly after I posted it due to mistakes found after the fact. This current version is quite different but the idea behind the story remains the same. It is based on **THE FIX. **Three men take refuge in the room above Huggy's bar. Huggy played a large part in that scene and this story is mainly his **POV.**

My thanks to all of you for your patience and belief in me.

**SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHTYDBTYDBTYDBTYDB**

In a room above a bar, three men continue the story of trust and risk that started in a dirty, lonely alley. Without question, Huggy provided a safe haven where Hutch could work out the demon that gripped his body and his soul. Quietly, Huggy provided material things the men would need to withstand the storm.

Starsky had to put one other person's friendship on the line. No hospital or police lock up for the blond to deal with. With either of those choices, too many prying eyes would have access to too much information and it would be too easy for the freaks involved in this torture to come back to finish Hutch off. Starsky couldn't imagine what his friend had done to be treated in such an inhuman way. The smell of the blond made Starsky gag but he was determined to swallow down that little bit of discomfort. It was nothing compared to what Hutch would still have to go through.

Starsky knew that what he was about to do was completely against regulations. He was putting his job, his own life on the line. Starsky just wanted to help Hutch. He'd risk everything to help his blond friend survive. The two of them had seen too many junkies succumb to their addictions. He knew it wasn't pretty. But watching a street junkie withdraw and die wasn't the same when it was your best friend. Your partner. Your life.

Hutch moaned and gagged once the car started moving. Starsky kept a firm, needy hand on the blond's dirty shirt. He stroked the other man's chest, speaking in low, comforting tones. His voice was calm but Starsky's mind raced along with the car's engine. The only place he could think of that was safe for both of them was at The Pits. Did he have the right to put Huggy in this position?

Huggy was in the kitchen, overseeing a large order. It was busy for lunch and he found himself bouncing between the kitchen and the bar, making sure everyone was served and happy. This also meant his working crew. The cook was in a sour mood and a new waitress was feeling picked on. He had to balance it all so that every one would come back, patrons and the help.

Huggy leaned against the wall, listening to the commotion around him. The unmistakable sound of the Torino rumbling up to the back alley of the restaurant caught his attention. Huggy sighed. He hadn't heard from Starsky in a few days. Not since he was in looking for Hutch and Jeanie. He still regretted losing her as a waitress. She brought a sort of class to the place and everyone liked her. He didn't know why she'd disappeared but maybe Starsky and Hutch were bringing her back.

Ready to scold Hutch for creating so much drama, Huggy wasn't prepared for the scene that greeted him as he sauntered out to the flashy red car.

The sarcastic remark he was ready to speak, died on his tongue as he heard Starsky's shaky voice and then Hutch's strangled reply.

He quickly went to the passenger side of the red car. Hutch sprawled out the length of the bench seat. Starsky kept talking but it was obvious Hutch couldn't hear. He didn't have to be told, Huggy knew the symptoms of drug withdrawal. He bent further into the open window and met Starsky's eyes.

"Huggy, can you help us? I'll tell ya more but I need to get him inside!"

"No problem, brother but shit, where'd you find him?"

Huggy couldn't stop his thoughts from changing his facial features. Not only did Hutch smell, but the blond was in such a weakened and agitated state, he wondered how they were going to get him on his feet and up to the room above the bar.

Huggy opened the passenger side door and started pulling Hutch out toward him. He wasn't ready for the battered body nor the terror he saw in the once clear blue eyes.

"Help, I need help! You gonna help? You got medicine for me?" Huggy's heart broke as the glassy eyes kept darting between himself and Starsky. The dirty, frazzled appearance of the blond unnerved him as the bar owner helped support the blond.

"Relax man, we'll take care of ya." Huggy didn't even ask Starsky for details then. He just concentrated on getting their burden into the restaurant and safely up to the second floor apartment. Instead, he thought back to his own experiences with drugs and the withdrawal that some had endured.

Huggy had witnessed plenty of the seedier side of life, including drug addiction. He'd watched helplessly as friends died because of an overdose. He cried, knowing that it was useless to take the needle away from them. They'd only find another fix. Even the tough ones who thought going cold turkey was the answer. They too died when their bodies just couldn't stand the agony or the stress. Or they gave up and turned back to the drug and all its promises.

But one thing he knew for sure, Hutch was in bad shape. Huggy entered the room upstairs armed with a pot of strong black coffee, plenty of sugar, a bowl of soup and candy bars. He knew one advantage Hutch had over the street junkies... Starsky. The dark haired man would hold on and fight even when Hutch couldn't. He'd risk both their careers by doing this.

All Huggy had to offer his friends was a safe place to crash, literally. The coffee would warm Hutch and provide liquids but Huggy wanted to offer more. He never thought twice about the towel draped across his shoulders. It was just something he was sure would come in handy.

"Man, this is bad. He's gonna fight with everything he's got to get more." Huggy wiped the sweaty forehead. The bed shook as Hutch twitched and convulsed.

"Let me take him... I brought soup. You should eat." He directed his suggestion to Starsky but the words were short and shaky as the thin bar owner pointed to the soup on the chair. He dropped the towel over his shoulder, intending to put the big blond bundle in his lap.

"Nah, can't do that Hug." Starsky's voice cracked as he leaned in closer to Hutch. He rubbed the man's neck as Hutch struggled to keep the coffee down. They'd been through this countless times already and no matter how careful, Hutch just brought everything he swallowed back up.

Realizing that Starsky wouldn't give up his burden, Huggy got off the bed. He dropped the towel across the wooden chair. He could be more useful later. He knew there'd come a time when the thugs would be back, looking for Hutch. The trail would lead them to The Pits but Huggy could be there for that. He'd watch and listen and gather as much information as possible. He also knew his friends well enough that as soon as Hutch was out of danger, Starsky would go in search of answers and he would take action to deal with his guilt. That was another thing he could help with later. Be close and lend an ear when they both needed to vent and seek closure.

Huggy spent the next few hours supporting Starsky's decision to bring the blond to the upstairs apartment. He tried to offer what was needed. He kept a supply of heavily sugared coffee, water and other fluids but Hutch couldn't keep any of it down. It was painful for both men to watch the struggle and to know that there was nothing either of them could do to make it all just go away. The pain and anguish were obvious and Huggy tried to keep a positive attitude but in his soul, he knew it was very possible that Hutch might die. Seeing him writhing on the bed, in pain and sweating, tore at the black man's heart. His friends were hurting. Not really thinking, he used the towel he'd found in the bathroom to wipe down the blond's face and head. Huggy was pretty sure that the man knew where he was and who he was with but that still didn't erase the pure fear and torment in the cloudy blue eyes. Secretly, the street wise bar owner wondered if it wouldn't be better to bring him down slowly. Obviously the man had been tortured, beaten and neglected. His body was already weak.

"Starsky, you want me to go get some of what he needs? Maybe it would be safer to bring him down in stages" Huggy was unprepared for the look of guilt on Starsky's face.

"Huggy, I thought about that. But that would take too long. We've got to get him through this 'cause then I need to go find the freaks who did this to him."

Hutch heard the offer of help. He flinched and choked as Starsky fed him more coffee. The coffee dribbled down his chin as he gagged again. This wasn't what he wanted. The taste of the coffee didn't compare to the need that ran through his veins.

Just as Hutch shivered and pleaded for the drug, Huggy wiped the terrified face with the thin, frayed towel. He narrowed his eyes with concern as he watched Starsky struggle to keep his own sanity.

Huggy excused himself to go fill up the coffee pot. It was a strain to keep hearing the begging, the crying. Huggy respected Starsky's wishes that they would go cold turkey. If Starsky was willing to risk his career and Hutch's life, then he could support that, no matter how hard it was to watch.

For the time being, Huggy could provide the physical things his friends needed. He closed the door behind him. He stood on the landing and flinched as Starsky's head banged against the wall. Huggy heard the moaning and crying. He closed his eyes and sank to the floor, head in his hands, listening as the two voices mingled in their agony on the other side of the wall.

Hutch had flashes of awareness. He wanted help. He felt frustrated and scared. He begged for more of the drug. But all he got in return were softly spoken words of encouragement. He found himself encircled in Starsky's body. His own body convulsed and twitched with need. But Starsky was there offering support. He lost the ability to sort through what was real and what he wanted but just as he was ready to give in, he'd feel a warm, damp cloth over his face.

The softness of the action brought him back. Reality was cruel and the pains still persisted but through that, the softness and caress of a towel held by one who meant to heal rather than harm, reached him. But so did the nausea. A new pattern erupted with another kick to his gut. Nothing but bile came. The towel appeared again. This time it was cold. He never thought he'd want to be cold but now this new onslaught of pain brought a fever. He was so damn hot that Hutch knew he had to be in the middle of hell. The towel swirled around his face, slid down his chest, around to his back. It felt like a heaven that he didn't deserve.

Noises invaded his brain but he couldn't put any of it together. The only thing he heard was the call of the drug. It taunted him. Promised salvation and an end to the suffering. But between that bottomless promise, came a more honest, rock hard belief. Small slits of understanding grew steadily until the window to his soul brought him a true, brightness of meaning. Starsky. A true promise of hope and love. Warm and comforting, the towel repeated a slow, steady pattern, calming him along with the words whispered in his ear.

"C'mon buddy. Fight this. You can do this. I'm here. Hold onto yourself. Hold on to me!"

But then the devil drug bared its fangs and the pain would answer back. Nothing but the double edged promise of release would help the blond. He still remembered the peaceful oblivion from before when he was high. He longed to reach that shaky plateau again. But the false hope was weaker and not as loud. The pain didn't reach so deep. But the anger toward the person who just wanted him to fight against something he had no wish to fight off, was growing. If pain, crying and pleading didn't get him what he wanted, then maybe the blond could use physical force to get him the hated release he craved.

Huggy returned with more coffee and a message. By this time, Hutch was able to be up and around. The pleading and begging were gone but were replaced by a far more dangerous stage. He watched as the blond tried to physically intimidate and cajole. His body was still weak, yet his voice took on a hateful, accusing tone which was in stark contrast to his usual calm, orderly approach to life.

Once he was able to get his limbs working again, Hutch paced the small room. He was weak but restless. He felt caged. He slammed his fist into the wall but it was ineffective and unconvincing. So he shouted at his jailor.

Huggy told Starsky about the men who'd been downstairs, flashing money for information. He had a license plate number and model of car so while the dark haired man kept up with his friend, Huggy tried to contact Captain Dobey but the captain was out for the night. The bar owner stayed out of the way while Starsky kept pace with Hutch's tirades.

"You're just a piece of shit! You think you're so much better than me. You got that dumb ass smirk on your face. You'd be nothin' without me." Hutch's words had no effect other than to make Starsky's eyes grow a deeper shade of blue.

Starsky just stood against the locked door, waiting for the abuse to drain out of the blond. One more venomous sentence caused the narrowed eyes to darken further.

"Just let me out! You aren't responsible for me. You don't have to know where I go or what I'm doing. You can forget all about me and go on with your life. It's what you want anyway."

Starsky remained calm but moved toward his friend and grabbed his shoulders and stared at Hutch till he was sure the blond would hear his words.

"Hutch, you ain't a responsibility, you're my friend. I'm doing this because you deserve to survive this! You will survive. We both will."

Hutch pulled away from Starsky and took up his pacing again. But abruptly, he stopped and shouted again.

"I gotta have it! Damn it, just give it to me, you bastard! If you really cared you wouldn't want me to..." Just as Hutch began to beg again, his eyes grew round and watery with need. He was slammed back to earth with a pain twisting his belly. He lurched to the bathroom, falling in front of the toilet. The dry heaves only made his chest constrict with pain and his mouth tingle with the bitter flavor of acid. The nasty mouthful tasted like anger. It reminded him that Starsky was not his friend. He hated everything. But then the softness of that towel was back. Rubbing coolness along his bare back. The cloth circled around to his sweating, panting chest. The refreshing wetness brought him back to what mattered most.

"I just can't do this. Don't leave me Starsk!" Hutch heaved again, drowning in the sickening smell and gagging.

The towel was back, bathing his fevered head with the quiet, unasked for support.

Hutch sighed, not trying to speak. It seemed when he opened his mouth, nothing but evil came out. But he leaned back, knowing without seeing that he'd be supported. The strong, steady arms circled his chest, rubbing his belly.

No amount of pleading, threatening words or weak aggression turned Starsky against his friend. The blond showed his dark side as hatred fed off the drug still coursing through his veins. But finally, his body slowed. The reactions to a false promise of the poison drove Hutch to the edge. Finally, he rested. Finally, the room grew quiet.

Starsky untangled himself from Hutch. His arms tingled and his legs were numb, his eyes blurry and grainy. He stood up slowly from the bed. He grabbed the towel off the floor, bending and stifling a moan as he did so. He slapped the towel over on the chair and circled the room. He felt restless and angry. Angry at what the blond had just endured, incensed that anyone would willingly torture another human being in this manner. He thought back to first finding Hutch in that alley. Bernie had promised that he wouldn't tell anyone what he'd seen. There certainly would be enough for the cop to spread some pretty nasty rumors. But Starsky trusted that the man would be true to his word and keep what he'd seen to himself. He hoped that risk was worth it.

Starsky had an overwhelming, sudden urge to vomit. He stumbled to the bathroom, expelling all the pain, stress and sadness he'd endured for the past few days. He wrapped his arms around the coolness of the toilet while his head bobbed with the wrenching gagging his body squeezed out of him. Finally, he slumped against the wall. His eyes closed as the room tilted and shifted.

He jerked as he felt a cool caress on his face. Starsky was surprised to find Huggy hunched down in front of him, brown eyes bright with worry.

"Hey man, take it slow. Here, let this damp towel revive you some." Starsky winced at the memories that assaulted him. His blond friend overcome by going cold turkey, restless and agitated on a rumpled bed. Here he was, just as rumpled, being taken care of when it was Hutch who really needed the tenderness. Starsky had done nothing to deserve the care he now received from Huggy. But Huggy thought differently.

"Huggy.. I'm so damn tired. How can we get Hutch through this? Maybe I shoulda--" Starsky didn't have time to finish his words when another spasm of sourness grabbed his stomach. He heaved again, coughing with the effort. Eventually gasping for breath, he raised himself to his knees. He accepted Huggy's help to stand and move toward the overstuffed chair by the bed.

Starsky plopped down heavily and sat forward with his head in his hands.

"Hutch'll beat this. Ya'll gonna be okay. It's gonna stretch both of ya to the limit but it'll be okay." Huggy knelt beside Starsky, offering the same towel.

It didn't occur to either man that this same towel had been used for some pretty ugly things in the last hours. All Starsky knew was that it was cool to his sandy, scratchy eyes and face. He grabbed it and offered Huggy a small, distracted smile. The dark smudges under the blue eyes kept the smile from reaching there. Starsky rubbed his belly as he blew out a breath to steady his still rumbling nerves.

"You know Hutch didn't mean anything he said earlier. It's the drug forcing that anger out of him. He trusts you man." Huggy stood up and rested his hand on Starsky's shoulder. He moved over to the bed as Hutch twitched in his sleep. Starsky swung the towel to his black friend who wiped the blond, sweaty hair.

"Yeah I know Hug. He ain't capable of so much violence toward me or you. But man, I thought I'd seen all this before in junkies on the street. Their overwhelming strength and ability to defend themselves all because of the junk they took. But it hurts like hell when it's coming from Hutch. He'll have a hell of a time fighting his guilt about all this. I gotta make him understand that it wasn't him who attacked me. It was the drug talkin"

Huggy busied himself around the room as Starsky still wrestled with his own thoughts. Keeping quiet, Huggy straightened up the best he could. He cleaned up the dish ware and other debris that was strewn across the floor. He shook his head at the memory of a violent and agitated Hutch. He walked back over to the two men, observing and anticipating what else he could do to ease their discomfort.

Starsky squirmed in the chair, flinging his leg over the arm. He rested his head back and closed his eyes. Before long, Huggy noticed that the man was able to let go and let his body rest. He would need his own strength to continue this fight against the toxin that still tormented Hutch.

Huggy knew the two men would deal with a lot of guilt in their own way soon enough. Sweeping his glance to include both men, he shook his head at the perceived responsibility both men would take for their actions. Hutch's guilt would eat away at him once the drug wore out of his system. He would beg forgiveness for the hate and anger that spewed out from his soul. Starsky would wrestle with his own guilt at not preventing the situation from occurring in the first place.

Huggy checked the room for another blanket to cover the man in the chair. He didn't want to touch Hutch, not when he'd finally found some peace and was able to rest. Not finding anything but the damn towel, he laid it across Starsky's legs, providing some measure of comfort, protection.

Like he'd done for Hutch, the lean black man reached down to remove Starsky's shoes. As he removed the first one, Starsky jerked awake. The dark head twisted around taking in the stillness, the quiet. He looked over at Hutch, making sure the blond man was still asleep. Suddenly, he became aware of Huggy. Embarrassed at the attention the other man showed towards him, the proud figure on the chair sat up straighter.

"You don't need to do that." Starsky whispered as he ran his hand through his hair. The dark blue of his eyes locked with the brown ones staring at him.

"My brother, you need attended to as well. Just rest now. Sorry I bothered you." Huggy rested his hand on Starsky's thigh, keeping his gaze focused on his friend.

"I'll be back with some food for you. You need to eat ya know? You look like death warmed over!" Huggy stood up, muttering to himself as he went toward the door.

Finally, the room quiet again, Starsky turned toward the man on the bed. The shakes, convulsions and moans had finally ceased. The body for the moment, wasn't being tortured by the withdrawal symptoms. At peace and able to sleep, Hutch blissfully gave in to that need. His pale skin was still ravaged by the beatings and other abuse but at least he was asleep.

Starsky shifted in the chair, smiling to himself. Suddenly he had no more energy. He noticed his one sock clad foot but didn't have the ability to lean over and take the other shoe off. His legs lost their muscle tone and his head fell back against the chair. He hugged the pillow that had found its way against his chest. His head wagged toward the softness and his eyes closed again. He gave no notice to the towel that draped across his lap. Somehow, he knew he was protected by love. He was too exhausted to analyze any further than the need for sleep. His last thought was of Hutch. He fell asleep, his head leaning against the pillow, his eyes focused on his friend. But soon, that vision blurred and all he felt was the coolness that the pillow provided. Forgotten, the towel rested on his lap. It had been put there by someone else who loved both of them. It was a small offering with a big pay out.

Starsky slowly came awake. Once he realized where he was, he jerked, thinking he heard Hutch calling to him. He sat up, the towel falling from his lap. Hutch sat upright in bed. Starsky had tried to coax the blond to lie flat on the bed and cover up with the blanket. But Hutch cried that the nightmares would leave only if he remained sitting up. They'd fall out of his head and wouldn't hurt him that way. So Hutch finally fell asleep. Obviously his plan worked because no more nightmares, no more screaming had occurred once he'd finally, blissfully, fallen asleep.

Starsky stood up, eyes always on his friend. He reached for the phone to call Captain Dobey and give him the information about the men Huggy'd seen the night before. Hutch jerked once but remained asleep.

The phone call never interfered with Hutch's slumber either. Not until Huggy entered the room again did anything reach Hutch. The smell of the coffee, the silly greeting offered is what got his attention. He felt like shit. He wanted to die. But damn, he had survived! Every nerve ending, every hair on his body vibrated with pain. He swung his legs over the bed and slowly stood up.

"Mornin' dudes! How about a new day to take the pain away!" Huggy entered, offering hope and friendship in the form of coffee and clothes for Hutch.

"Hey man, went by your place and picked up clean clothes. Feel like a wash up?" Huggy watched as Hutch slowly rose from the bed. There was no denying the grateful, shy smile of thanks on the grubby man's face. The bar owner offered the towel again to the blond as he made his way to the bathroom.

A shower? Huggy offered him the chance of a long, relaxing, invigorating shower. He not only felt sick, but he smelled worse than that. His clothes were crusty against his skin. The creepy - crawlies he'd endured last night were gone but now his skin was so sensitive. His eyes blinked against the light. His ears hurt with the chatter around him. But he couldn't resist the thought of a shower. Huggy had gone back to his place and brought fresh clothes. The lanky bar owner offered the ever present towel. It felt rather damp but the blond didn't want to protest the gift of a shower. Besides, he didn't deserve any other type of comfort. He'd survived this far because of the sacrifices his partner and Huggy had already made. He took the towel and headed to the bathroom.

The sting of the water felt good on his parched skin. The dirt and grime rinsed cleanly off his body. If only his guilt and shame could be as easily washed away. He scrubbed until his body felt raw instead of scratchy but the nightmare wasn't so easily removed. He let the water run over his head, down his chest and in between his toes, enjoying the feel of life again. All too quickly the water turned cool but even that was a relief and an awesome sensation. When his knees began to buckle with fatigue, he reluctantly stepped out of the cooling spray and dried himself with the thin, damp towel. He forced himself to think of something other than his bodily aches and soreness. It was time to get the bastards who'd done this to him.

The towel in his hand was the final link that connected him to his friends. It had been offered full circle between all three of them. Hutch felt renewed not only from the shower but because of what his friends had risked to help him.


End file.
